


shine your light on me

by lyuyu



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Fluff, but also annoying horny mason, lowkey domestic/fluffy mason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26570530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyuyu/pseuds/lyuyu
Summary: it seems as though the detective has become - in one way or another - a safe haven for mason. maybe there was some truth to sanja's words after all.
Relationships: Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	shine your light on me

He's not sure why he's here.

It's the start of summer, the air heavy with nauseating heat and lacking wind. Mason's hair sticks to his neck, luckily shielding it a little from the scorching rays of sun, though the sweat underneath hinders any benefit to be gained from the minimal cover.

He's been standing in front of Eva's door for – 10, 15 minutes? – now, yet he can't bring himself to lift his fist and knock on the door. And it's too bright and too hot for his mind to function properly, and the gentle heartbeat of the detective on the other side distracts him even further, not to mention the scent of her too.

Business has been quiet for the past two weeks, and Mason's grown bored with being cooped up at the warehouse day after another. So, maybe he's just in desperate need of entertainment, and the detective certainly is just that.

He paces back and forth, running a hand through his hair. Though he tries to push it aside, it always falls stubbornly back down, strands sticking to the sides of his face.

 _You shouldn't even be here._ Mason stops, turning to face the door again. _It's been two weeks since I last heard from her._

He pinches the bridge of his nose, both in frustration and growing fatigue, sun still gnawing on his skin. _I should've fucking called first—_

He barely can keep himself from flinching as the door suddenly creaks open. Mason straightens himself to his full height, the trademark smirk rising on his mouth as soon as his eyes land on the detective.

Eva, on the other hand, does _not_ look either impressed or amused. She gives Mason an expressionless once-over.

"What are you doing here?" she asks flatly. Mason leans against the door frame, his smirk turning into a wolfish grin as his eyes sweep over the barely covered figure of hers. The long, loose white top she wears clings to her skin in all of the right places.

_Nice._

"Good to see you too, sweetheart." Eva lifts a brow at the pet name. "Was just out and about and decided to stop by. You mind?"

Mason tilts his head to the side. Though the gesture is almost puppy-like, it hardly softens his demeanor.

Eva crosses her arms over her chest. "You're telling me you took a stroll 'round town and just happened to end up here?" She lets out a dry laugh that resembles more of a scoff. "Please."

"You don't believe me?" he asks. Eva merely sighs as an answer. "Alright, I might've come straight over. Happy?"

"Not really."

The answer gains her a snicker from Mason, both then falling quiet. The detective eyes him rather disinterestedly, and Mason, surprisingly, finds himself shifting under her assessing stare.

Eva then looks at him straight in the eye. "You look like shit."

 _Ouch_. He knows he isn't at his best, with the intense summer weather wearing him down, and the whatever little sleep he requires having been next to impossible to catch as of late – partly thanks to Felix, him causing constant ruckus at the base out of boredom, the young agent certainly hasn't been making it any easier to get even a bit of rest. It's like the kid runs on solar power.

"Gee, thanks, sweetheart," Mason mutters, though there's a hint of humor in his voice, something that can't be said of the detective's tone at all. "Your people skills are almost as good as Adam's."

Eva raises a hand as an interruption. "Right. Did you actually need something from me, Mason?"

"Depends." His gaze sweeps over her again, tongue sticking out to wet his lips. She has a nice build, sporty and toned rather than muscular, legs for days. She isn't the curviest woman out there, though she could probably crush a man's skull with her thighs if she really set her mind to it. Her height nearly matches Mason's, another quality of hers that weirdly pleases him. "You offering something?"

A bead of sweat rolls down her neck, catching his attention briefly. Over the summer, her tawny skin tone has caught a deeper hue of gold to it. It suits her.

Eva's tired groan draws his eyes back up to her face, the sour expression he comes to find there definitely matching the sound. She starts to close the door without warning. "Bye, Mason–"

"Ah, c'mon Eva, wait–" he manages to say before the door is shut. "I'm just messing around, okay?"

Her pulse is through the roof, he notices, and not in a good way. Eva narrows her eyes at Mason, the stare of hers freezing cold. After a pause that seems to go on for minutes, she rolls her eyes with another groan and opens the door wider, stepping aside.

“Get inside,” she murmurs, “before you burst into flames or whatever. How long were you out there anyway? Like twenty fucking minutes?”

Mason doesn’t answer as he walks past the detective inside the apartment. Eva grits her teeth and practically slams the door shut.

She must have an amazing AC, given how much colder it is in here compared to outside: Mason can feel his body react to the change in mere seconds, senses perking back up to normal rapidly as he shuffles further into the dim living room.

He bites back a content sigh. Finally. It’s calm and quiet, and the drapes barely let any light inside. A table fan whirs quietly in one corner of the room, but the noise hardly bothers him.

His instincts almost make him gravitate towards another corner, but with only the two of them there, he decides to settle on the couch instead. He spies Eva steal a curious glance, probably taking a mental note of this decision as well, before she shakes off whatever thought crossed her mind upon looking at him, and walks to rummage her kitchen cabinets.

Mason definitely appreciates the view of her reaching up. His head lolls lazily to the side as his gaze drifts up and down along the length of her body, a hungry grin tugging the corners of his lips once more. Such a pretty little thing that detective is: the way her thighs tense upon reaching higher up has Mason craving to sink his teeth into them – sometimes quite literally, too.

Eva takes out an ashtray; it's the same one she always digs up whenever the unit visits her. A small, glass one, with floral decorations engraved on it. She goes to set it on a windowsill.

"No need for that, sweetheart," Mason notes. Eva glances at him over her shoulder and he gives her an indifferent shrug. "Don't have any cigarettes on me."

The detective arches her brow at him, but the curious look dies as quickly as it came. "Okay."

She rounds back to the kitchen. "I have an emergency pack here." She taps the door of one of the cabinets. "Just in case."

Mason considers a snarky comment but lets it go, settling for a simple nod instead, though she doesn't even look at him. Eva busies herself again, going through the shelves; now she takes out a metallic bowl, turning around and setting it on a bar counter that divides the kitchen area from the living room.

"You didn't answer my question," she points out. Mason runs a hand over his face with a muffled groan. “Care to tell me why you’re here?”

For once – and probably for the first time – in his life, Mason gives the question a serious thought. The answer seems simple enough, it being the same as to why he hadn’t minded when Eva had kept him company on the rooftop of the warehouse, yet he’s not sure if he wants her to know the actual reason behind it.

He gives himself an invisible shake. _Snap fucking out of it._ Must be the fatigue’s doing, his thoughts drifting like this.

“Thought you would’ve guessed by now.”

Eva chuckles wryly. She answers with a sharp click of tongue, “Guess you’re not a man of many tricks, then.”

A throaty, if a little surprised, laugh escapes Mason. “Oh, detective, you just wait. You've seen nothing yet.”

There comes a loud crack as Eva smacks an ice cube tray against the edge of the bar counter. The cubes clatter all around the surface, and she sweeps them into the bowl with her hand.

As she picks it up, she shoots Mason a look he can’t remember seeing her wear before.

Eva saunters over to him, stopping to stand in between his spread legs. Mason leans instinctively forward in his seat, hands finding the backs of her bare thighs in an instant. He lets his fingertips sink into her skin as Eva slides her hand in his hair.

“Planning to ice me out, sweetheart?” he asks, mocking a coy tone as he glances up to the detective. His hands travel further, his fingers now squeezing the toned flesh of her inner thighs. Eva gives him a perfect imitation of the sinister smirk often found lingering on his own mouth.

She balls a handful of his hair in her fist. Then, she tugs his head back with just the right amount of sudden roughness to get his blood running, forcing a guttural groan out of him.

Not the foreplay Mason had expected, but he likes it. There’s a dangerous glimmer in Eva’s eyes as she leans down.

“You wanna play games, _vampiro_?”she whispers. The _r_ sounds like a soft purr, rolling off her tongue like honey. “Then come and play.”

His lips remain parted, mouth dry and all of his senses flaring up under her touch. _Fuck_. Suddenly the air of the room feels like a hundred fucking degrees. Eva gives him a wink, then releases his hair and leaves for the bedroom.

Mason follows after her, a little too eagerly for his own liking.

**

Her bed is soaked by melted ice.

Eva lets out a deep exhale. Her whole body is aching, sore, tingling, throbbing. She's definitely gained a few new bruises, though all of them are luckily sprinkled in places that can be easily hidden with the right clothing.

Her eyes sweep over to Mason's still figure next to her. The only movement is the steady rise and fall of his back in the rhythm of his breathing.

Probably sensing her eyes on him, Mason's flutter slowly open. It's easy to notice how much of a struggle it is for him to keep them from closing again.

Eva shuffles closer. She pushes his hair away from his eyes gently, strands messy and dampened by sweat. He doesn't react to her touch.

She leans in to brush her lips against the shell of his ear, whispering softly, "You can sleep, Mason."

Mason's eyes flicker to meet hers, and he nods weakly. A few moments later, he's already drifted off.

Eva slips off the bed and out of the bedroom carefully, casting one last look at him in peaceful slumber before she goes.

**

Some hours later, the screen of her phone lights up with an incoming call. Not bothering to check who the caller is, she picks it up.

“Detective de Leon,” she answers routinely.

 _“Hey, Eva!”_ Felix’s voice chimes from the other end. _“Damn, it’s good to hear your voice.”_

She cracks a small smile at that. “Good to hear you too, I guess. Is everything okay?”

 _“Oh, yeah. Actually—wait, here comes Nate and Adam. Hold on, lemme put you on speaker,”_ he goes on, rapid-fire. She can hear the low murmurs in the background. _“Okay, here we go. I was actually calling to see if you’ve heard from Mason.”_ There’s a short pause. _“He left around midday and hasn’t come back yet, and he’s turned off his phone. I’m sure everything’s fine, you know, but—”_

Her gaze immediately shifts to the bedroom door that’s slightly ajar. “Uh, yeah, no, he’s fine. He’s here, actually.”

Another pause. She can practically hear the gears turning in everyone’s heads.

 _“He’s at your apartment?”_ Nate asks. There’s a deep sigh, one she assumes comes from Adam. _“Is… is he okay?”_

“Yeah,” Eva says. “He’s just…”

 _“What?”_ Adam asks tersely. She rolls her eyes at his tone.

“Sleeping. He’s sleeping. Been out for hours now.”

For a beat, it’s quiet again, and then comes the collective _‘oh’_. Felix chuckles with a tad too excited vibration in his voice. _“He came over to nap at your place? Oh, man, that’s gold. Can’t blame him though.”_

 _“Felix’s been… pestering him a bit,”_ Nate explains. Suddenly both Mason’s tiredness and his eagerness to visit her make a lot more sense.

 _“Not my fault it’s been so goddamn boring ‘round here,”_ the younger agent scoffs in defense. Eva laughs quietly.

“Yeah. Well, as I said, he’s fine,” she murmurs, “but I should go—small flat, voice travels, you know. I don’t wanna risk waking him up.”

_“Gotcha.”_

Before she can hang up, Adam calls out, _“Detective de Leon.”_

“Yes?”

_“...Take care of him.”_

The request makes her gaze towards the bedroom yet again. Eva bites her lip, frowning.

“I’ll try.”

**

As soon as the call gets cut, Adam takes off like a storm. After he disappears from sight, Felix and Nate turn to look at each other: Felix raises his brows, a victorious grin playing on his face, while Nate bites back a smile. When they’re sure the commanding agent isn’t coming back, they give each other a high five with a laugh.

**

Mason breaks out of his sleep only a few times.

Once, when he hears the detective on the phone with who he assumes is the rest of the unit. Shutting out her voice, he reaches blindly for a pillow, and it’s definitely one she sleeps the most with, given how overwhelmingly full of her scent the linen is: without much concentration, he can only make out a whiff of aloe vera and whatever hair product it is she uses – something with shea butter, for sure, and then there’s her natural scent that’s the strongest of the three.

He buries his face into the pillow. It doesn’t take long until he’s carried away again.

**

The second time he wakes, is when the detective has come to bed and is fast asleep next to him. She snores softly, hair bundled inside a silken scarf, leaving her neck bare. Even though it’s pitch black, and he’s still a little bleary, he can easily make out the two faint scars ruining the otherwise perfect skin of Eva’s.

Without further thought, he scoots closer. He hesitates for only a moment, but ends up slipping an arm around the detective’s waist, nuzzling into the nape of her neck.

 _She smells so damn good_. Still enticing, and cozy and comforting—and though he doesn’t let his thoughts slip quite that far—her scent has a homely feel to it too.

**

The next time Mason opens his eyes, it’s the break of dawn. A sliver of sunshine sneaks its way into the bedroom, painting it a pale shade of orange.

The door has been left open, and a waft of tea floats into the room. _Is it the next day already?_ He stretches deeply, a yawn escaping him as he does. _Shit, that sleep packed a punch._ Getting all those hours in will keep him up and running for weeks, that much is sure.

He sits up, leaning down over the edge of the bed to pick up his clothes from the floor. He closes his eyes for a moment more, savoring the last few minutes of much needed stillness of the morning. The gentle thump of the detective’s heartbeat is the only thing tickling at the edge of his hearing.

Then, he gets up, dresses, and heads out into the living room. Might as well get the day started.

Eva is ready for work by now, leaning against the bar counter with a cup of tea in her hand and a newspaper spread in front of her. She lifts her gaze to him as he steps out, giving him a curt nod in greeting.

“Good morning,” she says. Mason nods back.

“Morning.”

They regard each other coolly, not sure at first how to proceed. Mason lingers at the doorway, leaning against the frame. A moment passes before Eva clears her throat.

“I was just about to head out,” she says. Mason gives another nod. “Did you sleep well? You must’ve been proper exhausted to black out like that.”

He runs a hand through his hair, shifting in his place. Any instinct he usually has to give the detective a cutting comment is now nowhere to be found.

“Seems like your bed’s good for a lot of things.” Well, maybe just this one more. Eva sighs, but a small smile rises on her face. She discards her cup and straightens up.

“Right.” She gives him one of those once-overs she seems to be so fond of, especially when it comes to Mason. “I should get going. You gonna head home?”

They move towards the door in tandem, Eva grabbing her jacket and tugging it on. Mason reaches for the door handle before she can.

“I’ll walk you to work,” he announces as he opens it. The statement catches the detective off-guard, Mason notices, the second-long flicker of confusion on her face betraying her. She shakes it off quickly, slipping past him without answering.

**

The walk to the station is filled with about as much conversation as Eva expected, which is little to none at all. Wayhaven is quiet in its morning haze, sometimes even eerily so, though some months ago she probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought.

Eva can’t stop herself from stealing a glance or two at Mason every now and then. Despite the early hour, the sun is out and the warmth it casts powerful, yet still he doesn’t slink away to the few spots along their route that offer shade, nor does he try to shield his eyes from the light. In fact, she catches him looking directly at it once (though only for two or so seconds, tops), quiet contemplation settling into the grey of his gaze.

Even with the enduring silence, the stroll to the station is quite nice. Halfway through, the detective drifts a bit too close to Mason, bumping into him. Following the light collision, their eyes meet, him giving her that permission-seeking look he’d shot at her only so many times before. At her nod, he slings his arm around her shoulders.

Soon enough, they halt to a stop in front of the station. Mason’s arm drops back to his side as he takes a step away from Eva.

“...So.”

“So.”

“This is you,” he says. Eva smirks.

“So it’d seem.”

Mason sucks his lower lip between his teeth, hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Guess I’ll leave you to it, then.”

The detective spares him one genuine smile, the kind that she rarely aims at him (though he can only blame himself for it.) “Thanks,” she simply says, then turns on her heel to head inside. Goodbyes never were their specialty.

Mason’s hand snaps to grab her arm before he can even realize it himself. “Eva.”

The way he says her name is far more tender than it has been before. The spell of it is only broken by the harshness of which he yanks her to him with, though it’s all forgotten in the next second when he kisses her.

It reminds Eva of the way she had kissed him after the hellish rescue mission: soft and intimate in all of its intensity, and just as it had stolen Mason’s breath away back then, it now steals away hers.

It leaves her all dizzy and blazing, and she’s sure Mason can hear the loud beat of her heart and feel the heat that fights its way on her cheeks. She doesn’t mind though; any feelings of hers have hardly been a kept secret anyway. (And who knows, maybe it’ll only further encourage him to be honest with those of his own too – eventually.)

As if only now waking up, Mason pushes her away quickly, but Eva is too dazed to care.

“What was that for?” she asks breathily. Mason shoves his hands deep into his pockets and shrugs.

“I don’t know. A thanks, I guess.” He frowns. “Don’t read too much into it.”

A silence too familiar falls over them again. It takes Eva a good moment to collect herself.

“Right,” she mumbles the word as she turns away. “See you around, Mason.”

She takes a few steps forward, hearing Mason call after her – “Hope so, sweetheart,” – but she powers through the want to look back at him. Only when she’s right in front of the station’s doors, she dares to glance over her shoulder.

By then, Mason is already gone, the streets quiet and empty.


End file.
